


Dog Jokes

by nagaplz



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: F/M, Female Ejaculation, Genderbending, Knotting, Language Kink, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:23:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nagaplz/pseuds/nagaplz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Grimm_kink community on Dream Width: Monroe knots with girl Nick leading to multiple orgasms</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dog Jokes

**Author's Note:**

> I just started reading more Monroe/Nick fanfiction so their interaction is still pretty stiff but I wanted to say that this, so far, has been the tamest fandom I've ever been in and that drove me to take this simple prompt and just over do it, so please don't take this to literal or look too much into it. Each of these kinks named in the warnings weren't planed. They just sort of fit themselves into the writing as I went along and sometimes, yes, I had to walk away from my computer because I couldn't stop myself from laughing. But please, enjoy this beast of a wank-fic, all six pages of it.

In the end it didn’t take much for Nick to worm her way into Monroe’s life so tightly and completely. The Grimm was exhausting at best, in the beginning and ever after—really. There was nothing, Monroe recalled, nothing at all she would do half way or leave unfinished. It was a quirk borderline obsession.

She would come to him, at first, for information on the wesen she ran into on cases, information that she didn’t have time to learn German or search through books of ancient texts for. And each time she came knocking on his door he was ready for a fight. Female blutbaden were vicious enough for him, he didn’t want to assume anything with a female Grimm waiting for him on his front porch. But it was just information she wanted—information at all times of the day, night, and mornings (turns out there is such a thing as 3:31 A.M.) and even that had somehow turned into more. 

Now she wanted food with her information; food and/or something to drink. Nick would stop by at random times and Monroe had learned to stock his house accordingly because most times she didn’t even wait for him to offer. She dug into his fridge or cabinets and either ate or made herself something to eat while talking Monroe’s ear off about something she learned or wanted to learn about her Grimm heritage.

He had learned to buy wine and keep it stocked, nothing fancy but she usually preferred something sweeter to drink rather than his warm German beer. Butterscotch candy and salt water taffy were her complete undoing and weakness—Monroe first tried hiding them from her but she seemed to have a sixth sense for wherever he had hidden them. It soon became a game he played, hiding the candies and watching her face light up as she found each one and popping it into her mouth with a triumphant air surrounding her.

And he probably should have known then and there what would become of them but he just stood back and let her blow through his kitchen and his entire house eventually—there were some rough all nighters, either because of fights with other wesen that left her slightly handicapped or verbal fights with her current boyfriend and she just needed the company of someone who understood.

Monroe hadn’t cared for any of her boyfriends, honestly, and Nick had eventually told him about the love of her life that she let get away, Juliette. It was simple, tragically so, she explained. Juliette was offered a big, once in a life time job opportunity; top pay, good hours—the entire works. The only downside was it wasn’t in Portland. Or anywhere close and Nick couldn’t bare to leave her job that she loved, her home town or friends. So they had split and that was the end.

And he had told her about Angelina. About how he had loved her and would have followed her everywhere but things had changed when a friend of his had died because of their recklessness. Angelina hadn’t seen anything wrong with continuing with her life style but he couldn’t see it in himself any longer, the life that they had together wasn’t a life at all. So he left.

After that, it had taken even less time, once he had accepted that Nick was her own type of Grimm—girl—person—being entirely and with her now practically living with him (he swears he’s going to start making her pay half the house payments or at least charger her rent from taking up his living room space) that they started fucking each other. Nick’s scent was a constant lingering trace all over his house and even on his clothes—she had changed his detergent on him somehow, switching his natural soap to something store bought that smelt like plastic synthetic flowers. But she was everywhere and it happened out of adrenaline and anger. 

She had taken a stupid risk and he was angry. And she was angry that he was angry and the words built until it boiled over and she was on her belly on the living room floor with her ass in the air and Monroe sliding inside her, pushing her torso down and growling out harsh words blanketed in frantic worry.

After he had finished, calmer now but slowly building up a panic as all his senses came rushing back to him that made his blood run cold. He not only had sex with a Grimm but he had just had sex with Nick. Nick, the ‘don’t you dare call me Nichole’ Nick. His continuously surprising and infuriating best friend, the woman that not only accepted him for whom and what he was but also wanted him to be better than he was or felt like he could be. Nick.

He even still had his jeans partially on.

She had laughed at him then and he may have been a little offended up until she had turned and claimed his mouth in a kiss. “You made a mess, Monroe.”—she teased him, laying back against the worn carpet and spread her thighs while reaching out a hand and tapping him on the end of his nose with a finger—“Bad dog.”

And that was it, everything was OK and Monroe was back down on top of her devouring her mouth, biting and liking his way down her chest. His fingers lightly tracing her outer lips and she let out a low, satisfied moan that sent pleasure coursing through him as he slid two fingers in. He worked her open, feeling and smelling her heat mixed with his come. 

She didn’t waste time and started working herself on his fingers and tongue, crying out demands while her hands raked through his hair and holding tight, anchoring him in place as he worked his own come out of her. 

“Monroe,” Nick gasped. “Monroe, I’m gunna—“

Another moan slipped from her as Monroe continued liking and sucking at her clit while his fingers drove inside her again and again. She was practically vibrating with tension, her grip on his head getting tighter trying to pull him up and away.

“Monroe—Monroe, you need to—oh!”

Monroe flinched back as a rush of warm liquid rolled over his hand and chin, soaking the carpet under her and Monroe just stared in shock. It took several moments for Monroe to fully process what had happened, to fully take in the site of Nick coming back to herself and start apologizing for him to come to the startling conclusion, with Nick’s scent over powering the air, that Nick was absolutely perfect in every way; he wanted to keep her forever.

“Nick,” Monroe’s voice cracked. Her scent was all over him, all he could smell was Nick and it was a little more than a distraction especially with her moving around trying to sit up. She was talking again, apologizing for whatever reason that Monroe couldn’t care less for and he found himself pulling Nick towards him to kiss her again just to stop her from speaking.

They never truly talked about that night, well, he mostly just doesn’t bring up the fact that she felt insecure of her ability to ejaculate because that, he knew, would bring up years of history with other partners and he didn’t think he could handle that. She teased him about it though—he had to actually look up how to get those kinds of stains out of a carpet—still teases him about it actually but the teasing turned into more of an invitation for him to do it again and again.

And he does and he loves it. Monroe’s addicted, he can admit it to himself, to the smell and taste of her surrounding him and the feeling her gushing over him. He’s had to invest in new bed sheets but he loves knowing that she trusts him enough to share this part of her with him. He takes full advantage of that trust as much as he can and feels that he can trust her also to with his own secrets and needs.

Nick agreed readily, pupils blown wide as they talk and make plans about him knotting with her. He makes her understand that it’s not something he can fully control—not with the way they’re going. Monroe’s had to pull out prematurely a few times when they were being overly eager and he had her scent all over him and he just couldn’t help it. She weakened his control just by being close to him on any regular day but with her come pooling on him and that tiny relaxed smile she gives after, his instincts where going haywire. His body running on auto pilot and they had to make preparation before he didn’t catch himself in time and they were tied together.

Nick pushes him back onto his couch and crawls on his lap, today has been a good day, and he has a brief thought of how this has become his life—he’s in a relationship with a Grimm for crying out loud—before he’s roughly maneuvered onto his back. His eyes flash red, a growl forming low in his chest but Nick holds her ground easily. She hasn’t exactly said it but he’s certain this is her favorite position; probably because it always starts a fight of dominance between them.

“Nick,” Monroe breathes out as she wiggles her way down between his legs and undoes his jeans, pulling them off. Her mouth is wet and heavenly, sucking at the tip and using her hands on the length. “Mein Gott, deinen Mund.” 

She hadn’t fully grasped the German language yet, but Monroe had gotten the hint that she appreciated him speaking it to her while they were like this. Sometimes he would get her to repeat words and phrases, rewarding her when she would get the diction perfect.

Nick lets up a little and that’s all the opening Monroe needs before he’s hauling the Grimm up for a kiss and fumbling with her jeans. She hurriedly stands and lets him pull the pants down her legs until they’re pooled at her feet before she’s back in his lap and pulling the shirt over her head and working on the buttons of his flannel shirt.

“Have I told you how much I love your hands?” Nick says with a smile, her lips close to Monroe’s but not yet touching. 

“Nein.” Monroe lies with a grin of his own, as he pushes aside her panties to slip a single finger into her heat. He knows it’s not enough for her but she can at least work for something. He doesn’t want Nick to think he’s spoiling her (even if he has for everything else). “Do tell.”

“I love watching you work.” His shirt is opened now and Nick runs her blunt nails over his shoulders. 

“You work with all those small parts, I knew when I first seen your work bench—“

Her breath hitches as he adds another finger and pushes his thumb against her clit.

“That your hands were just made for this.”

Nick pulls him closer and he eases his fingers from her as she seats herself on his cock and sets the pace slow. Monroe would never use the world small to describe Nick, it just didn’t seem to fit her stature. She was shorter than him, yes, by at least a foot and a half but small seemed too weak of a word for who she was. Even then, and maybe it was his blutbad heritage that brought it on but seeing someone as powerful and slight as she was give herself over to him so willingly made his control wilt just that much more.

“Mm,” Nick’s voice rumbled low, her hands reaching back and unclipping her own bra. Her breast, like everything else that could be associated with the Grimm, are perfect. They fit her body well and Monroe loves showing them attention whenever he can. He runs his hands over them, cupping them, before moving his hands to her hips to speed up her thrusts. Nick can’t help but notice how much larger his hands seem to be and it sends a rush of adrenaline through her, making her skin prickle and she allows him to quicken the pace. 

Monroe could feel the familiar pulling of his features changing, nails and teeth lengthening and senses heightening. Nick made a happy noise and her hands immediately started running through his hair, he wasn’t really impressed with her fondness for petting him but Monroe learned to tolerate it.

“Monroe—I’m—“

“Can’t, we can’t yet.“ The preparations that they talked about and him stressing the importance—he should have known she would disregard them so easily. “Don’t—“

“Its, its—ah!” Monroe grit his teeth, holding Nick tight against him as her body began to shake, again shocked as he felt the gushing of liquid around his upper thighs and leaking down to soak into the fabric of the couch. He cursed as the smell of her filled his nose and he found himself coming with a strangled cry, knotting her firmly to him.

“You did that on purpose.” Monroe accused.

Nick whimpered, she could feel his cock’s girth grow, stretching her. “I didn’t hear you—ng!—complaining.”

“I’m complaining now,” taking a deep, slow breath—through his mouth—he let his body relax and come down from its heightened pleasure. “We’re going to be like this for some time you know.”

“So you said earlier.” Nick let out a tiny sigh and leaned against Monroe as he eased back onto the couch. “Something about… breeding, or whatever.”

Monroe slapped playfully at her ass and Nick laughed loudly, her breathing now calmed. “I did not say breeding.”

“You might as well have.”

“I told you, if you were listening, that this is usually the hold for… you know.”

Nick gave him a flat look. “To get the female pregnant.”

Monroe ignored her, rolling his eyes and continuing. “And, that we had to discuss whether you where on any form of birth control because—“ he cut himself off when he felt her body go tense against him. “You’re not, are you?”

She didn’t say anything for long moments that felt like hours. “I—I didn’t think it was, you know, a thing because of all the other times.”

“That’s because,” Monroe swallowed, his tongue feeling heavy. “That’s because most blutbaden males shoot blanks unless…”

“Unless they knot.” She whispers into his shoulder. And he doesn’t know what to say to her at this point. The possibility that she could, would—maybe carry their child. Monroe felt his inner self rumble pleasantly at the thought of seeing Nick’s stomach grow with their baby and he realized that he had begun rubbing at her lower belly.

“I guess I really jumped the gun on this one, hm?” One of her hands joined his and then dipping lower to her clit. 

“This isn’t fair.” He whined as he watched Nick rub herself. He was suppose to be freaking out—they were suppose to be freaking out. What would they do with a child—how would they handle that situation.

“Monroe,” Nick moaned and ran her teeth over the blutbad’s neck while clenching her lower stomach muscles. “Monroe, bitte.”

She watched as Monroe’s eyes bled to an intense red making her feel hotter as she continued to touch and work herself while he watched. They never before talked about having a future together—she didn’t want to talk about the future because it was full of too many painful ‘what ifs…’ but this felt different somehow. 

“Oh God,” she felt her breath quicken and she gripped at his hand that was still splayed over her stomach, pressing it into her skin, before she cried out her release. She didn’t gush this time but it drained her all the same and Nick fell against Monroe, letting him pet her as she usually does him.

They had a long talk ahead of them, Nick knew and she would be lying through her teeth if she said this didn’t frighten her to the very core.

“You Grimm’s, I swear.” Monroe said after a long while of them just thinking in silence. He had long since grew soft enough to pull from her but they had stayed entangled together. “You ruined my couch.”

She snorted a laugh that turned into a yawn. “It was just the one cushion. Turn it over.”

Monroe looked at her as if she was without a brain.

“Or you could invest in that plastic stuff, you know. The ones that people use so they don’t get dog hair—“

She’s laughing, so he doesn’t feel too awful when he pushes her off the couch to the floor.

And just like that, everything seemed to be OK again.

 

\-- Ende'


End file.
